Praying Around the Clock

When I teach about liturgical time, I sometimes use the image of an old-fashioned clock—the kind with an hour hand, minute hand, and second hand. Like an analog timepiece, liturgical time circles around at three speeds: the rhythms of the year, the week, and the day.

• The Christian year is like the hour hand, cycling slowly through annual events: the seasons of Advent, Christmas, Lent, and Easter, along with festivals commemorating the faith of the church.
• The Christian week is like the minute hand, moving steadily through a regular order of worship: our weekly praise for God’s creative work and celebration of Jesus’ resurrection on the Lord’s Day.
• The Christian day is like the second hand, spinning rapidly through frequent opportunities for spiritual practice: invitations to pause for prayer in the evening, at night, in the morning, and at midday.

Although they move at different speeds, each hand of the clock travels the same circle. Similarly, the rhythms of the Christian year, week, and day are meant to draw us into a singular event: the dying and rising of Christ.

• Once a year we commemorate Christ’s death and resurrection with the Three Days—Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and the Easter Vigil—and through the surrounding seasons of Lent and Easter.
• Once a week we gather to celebrate God’s new creation and triumph over sin and death, with the resurrection of Christ on the first day of the week, the Lord’s Day.
• Once a day, at evening prayer, we prepare to lie down and rest in Christ’s peace and, at morning prayer, are awakened to rise up and shine with Christ’s glory.

I don’t believe we are called to check off every box, compelled to attend every service. Our baptismal calling is to immerse ourselves in the death and life of Christ, so this pattern of faith flows through us wherever we are and whatever we are doing—every second, minute, and hour; every day, week, and year.

The concentric rings of liturgical time give us countless opportunities to remember our baptism—renouncing evil and reaffirming our faith. Over and over, there are fresh invitations to “synchronize our watches” with God’s wisdom and will. Maybe this is what Paul meant when he charged us to “pray without ceasing” (1 Thess. 5:17).

We do this not as solitary individuals, but as members of the whole body of Christ—trusting that the church continues its worship with or without us, as it has for centuries. Whenever, wherever, and however we pray, we join the ceaseless song of the saints around God’s throne, those who worship night and day (Rev. 7:15).

Indeed, the whole creation praises God—as the earth spins on its axis, the moon orbits the earth, and the earth revolves around the sun. “The heavens are telling the glory of God and the firmament proclaims [God’s] handiwork. Day to day pours forth speech, and night to night declares knowledge” (Ps. 19:1–2).

Through the ever-circling rhythms of the year, the week, and the day, the church proclaims the great mystery of our faith: Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again.